For My Parents
by LittleMagenta
Summary: --ONE-SHOT-- Squee’s parents are really going at it, and he’s determined to make them happy. Since his first attempt at praying didn’t work, this time he’s decided to try a different approach. He’s going to go ask God…personally.


For My Parents

By Damaged Demonic Angel

A.K.A. Sammi

~*-*~

**Rating:** PG-13

**Genre:** Humor

**Summary:** Squee's parents are really going at it, and he's determined to make them happy. Since his first attempt at praying didn't work, this time he's decided to try a different approach. He's going to go ask God…personally.

**Author's Note: **Spur of the moment idea that I didn't get off the ground for quite a few months…call me insane, I won't mind.

I also know all I really have up here is short stories. Well, that's because I only want to put finished things up. What finishes faster – short stories, or multi-chapter stories? Huh? HUH?! No, no, go ahead – think.

**Disclaimer: **I own Squee! I OWN DA WORLD!! Kidding, you nimrods…what do _you_ think?

~*-*~

"My parents aren't happy, Shmee. I wish they were."

Todd Casil, also known as Squee, listened to the loud, screaming voices coming from the first floor. At the moment, he was working on a story that was, in his opinion, brilliant. Of course, two kids in school had snatched it up that very day and laughed at it, but he didn't mind. They couldn't read anyway.

"Really dear, why can't we just send the little boy to boarding school?"

"No, you clueless bitch! First off, that little boy is your son! Second, if we sent him to boarding school, the little home wrecker could tell everyone how _awful_ we were to him. The next thing you know, we're getting the police called on us and are being carted off to court. My God, woman, what's your IQ?"

The conversation carried on, but Squee wasn't listening anymore. One of his father's words had sparked a memory.

"Of course! I almost forgot, Shmee! God! That God person can make my parents happy!" He raised an eyebrow and held the piece of cotton stuffing close to him. "Oh Shmee…maybe I just didn't ask right the first time." Suddenly, his eyes became large. "Yes! That's it! I just didn't ask right last time! But this time, I will! And—"

"FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!" Squee's father's infuriated voice reached his ears, accompanied by a few hard bangs on the door. "Stop talking to that goddamn piece of shit or I'll throw it out the fucking window!!!"

Squee put down his pen and held the fluffy cotton ball close, cowering. He knew his father wasn't really angry at him. He was just upset because of the brawl he was currently in the middle of. Squee uttered an apology, and released the cotton ball when he heard his father's retreating steps.

"I don't know how much longer I can see them this way. I just want them to be happy." He sighed wistfully and looked out the window. "Someone once told me that God is hiding up there, in the clouds. That's what the guy in the TV commercial said, too. So how am I supposed to get to the clouds? Only people that die go there."

There was an awkward pause. Squee was almost sure that he had suddenly seen a wicked grin spread across the little ball of stuffing. Of course, that was impossible.

"I'd do anything for them, Shmee. But I would never be able to pull that off. Maybe if I just ask nicely, I could—" Squee silenced immediately as an abnormal and out-of-place wind picked up in his room. Loose papers fluttered around in a small tornado, completing the cliché scenario. A shadowy form stood in the middle. All too soon, the cliché tornado signaling the arrival of a magical being died down, and a man with a long beard was left standing in the middle of Squee's room.

The man adjusted his glasses, retrieving a scroll from one of his pockets. He pulled it open and peered at it. "Might this be the room of Mr. Todd Casil?"

Squee nodded timidly. The man promptly rolled up the scroll and stuffed it back into his pocket.

"Well hurry up, kid, we gotta get going."

"Uum…where exactly are we going, Mr.?"

"Didn't you want to see God, kid?"

Squee scrunched up his face, confused. "I thought only old dead people got to see God."

"Yeah, well you've gotten a special reprieve from the usual punishment of seeing him while alive…it's like the Tooth Fairy, kid…due to your absolute selflessness in the action and all that stuff, yadayada." The man snapped his fingers and the magical tornado started up around him again. "Hop in, kid, we got a long way to go."

Squee was once again confused. "I thought things like this only happened in movies."

The man sighed, annoyed. "Okay, Hollywood comes up with some good stuff so we use it. Are you coming or not?"

Squee nodded and took hold of the man's hand, first grabbing Shmee's remains. The tornado whirled around him until he couldn't see anything outside. In what couldn't have been more than four seconds, the tornado died down and Squee found himself standing in an extremely run-down area. Above him hung a sign, hanging on to the two poles on either side by a single strip of wood. It read – "HEAVEN". Squee raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Yeah, kid, don't push it." He pointed to a long pathway. "Just keep walking down that thing and you'll find the big guy soon enough. I gotta get back to work."

Squee trembled slightly. "You mean…you're not coming with me?"

The man snorted. "Of course not! I have work to do. I can't let any crazies walk through here just like that. I learn from my mistakes…besides that, I abhor children."

Todd Casil's eyes widened, and he nodded, understanding that the man had a very important responsibility to uphold. He started down the path, wondering what the word _'abhor'_ meant.

He passed by many interesting people on the path to God. One man was sitting down in a chair. He seemed to have a lack of outer-arms and legs from the knee-down. He was also quite fat. Squee knew without a doubt that he would always remember him as the 'dead chicken-potato man'. Squee must have walked for ten minutes without disturbance when an old lady with a cane walked  by. He had been too busy gazing at the scary, squishy-looking flying bunnies to notice her. Then she took the liberty of giving him a sharp whap on the head with her cane.

"You there!" she shouted in an unnecessarily loud voice, spraying spit all over Squee. "Yeah, you, Sonny! Is you alive, boy?"

Squee nonchalantly wiped his forehead with his sleeve, not wanting to seem rude. "Yeah…I came to see God."

"That old faggot?" the old lady cawed, spraying more spit all over the poor boy. "Good luck, Sonny! Maybe you'll have more luck with him than all the rest of us that've tried! 'Specially funny what he did to that damn Sid Vicious though. We never needed…_weirdos_ like him putting _ideas_ into the heads of you young people. But don't worry, I believe you can get through to the old man." She eyed him. "You're _alive_, after all."

Having the sudden feeling that she was eyeing him as if he were a large slab of juicy steak, Squee hurried on his way. He ran for another minute, carefully avoiding anyone who began to approach him. He could barely believe some of these people had made it into heaven.

Finally, the appearances of ugly dead people began to diminish, and Squee found himself in a large clearing. A large pipe-like thing was positioned in front of his face. His eyes followed it upward, where it expanded into a large chair. In the chair sat an old, sleeping fat man. A wire-thin creature was draped around the chair.

"Mr. God sir?" Squee said politely.

"Shh!" the creature hissed. "Can't you see he's sleeping?"

Squee twiddled his fingers. "I'm sorry, I mean, um…I had a really big favor to ask, and…"

The old man let out a groan and moved into a more comfortable sitting position. "A favor?" he grunted. The creature quickly slithered away. God opened his eyes and peered down at Squee. "A live one? So, I spend so much of my valuable time to create the entire world and everything that revolves around it, you and your people go around and tear it apart, and now you come asking me for favors? The world is fucked because you made it that way, kid. Deal with it."

"B-But…I really need this favor…"

God laughed. "Who do you need it for?"

"My parents."

God stared off into space for a minute. "Ah, them. The dipshit and the termagant? I don't think so. I only grant favors for people who go around mindlessly worshipping me. They're funny."

Squee looked about to cry. "The man on TV said that you could solve anyone's problems."

God laughed again. "That's why I sometimes go ahead and help people like them. They're such idiots. I pity the idiots…sort of. Actually, I just like to fuel their mindless worshipping habits. It's the only form of entertainment there is around here. Now go home, kid."

"But Mr. God person, my parents fight all the time. I really want them to be happy. I can't stand the yelling anymore." Squee dropped his gaze to the ground. "Please make them happy? I just want them to be happy…"

God leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. The wiry creature once again coiled around the top of the pole. "Like he said, little boy, go –"

"Actually, I think I may be able to do something for you, boy."

Squee raised his head, his eyes filled with disbelief. "Will you? Really?"

"Yeah sure, why not?" God shrugged. "It's something to do." For a moment, Squee thought he could have kissed him. Then he realized he would rather not step any closer to the old man. God groaned once again and waved a hand at the wiry creature.

"Hey, you…Thing there."

The creature slithered up to the chair. "Uh…me?"

"Yeah, yeah, you. Could you snap your fingers and start up one of those magical tornado things?"

The creature sighed helplessly. "I don't really have fingers."

"Oh all right." God sighed, and with what seemed like great effort, snapped his own fingers. A magical, cliché-tornado engulfed Squee, and he was swept back into his own room. When the whirling wind cleared, he was left sitting on his bed wearing a dumbfounded expression. Had he actually just seen God? Had he just seen who had to be the most elusive man in the entire _universe_?

Squee stared blankly. "Wooow…"

Footsteps sounded on the staircase. In a matter of seconds, his father had thrown open the door. His mother was standing behind him, cackling maniacally. He was grinning.

"The most amazing thing has just happened, boy," he said wickedly. "Your mother and I just had a spur-of-the-moment idea and called a foster home. They've agreed to take you."

Squee's eyes widened. "Daddy…?"

"I want you to realize that this is the best thing that has happened to us in a long time," his father continued. "Your mother and I have been plagued ever since we _accidentally_ had you. Well no more of any of this. No more watching the recording of your birth in reverse. As a matter of fact, the second you're out of here, we're going to burn them and all of your belongings." His grin grew wider. "You hear me, boy? For the first time in quite a few years, we're going to be happy."

Squee trembled. "H-happy?"

They began to giggle. Their giggles dissolved into maniacal laughter. They continued cackling until it reached an ear-shattering pitch. All of a sudden, out of no where…

…Their heads exploded. They fell to the floor.

Every light in the neighborhood flicked on as Squee began to scream. 

~

"Hey…those people you agreed to help…when you snapped your fingers right then, their faces blew up. The kid's screaming his bloody head off."

God chuckled, and patted the wiry creature on the head. "I know. See the thing is, that kid wanted his parents to be happy. Well no matter what happens, even if they did get rid of that damn kid, their happiness wouldn't have lasted forever. So why not end it all for them during the peak of their joy?"

The wiry creature nodded. "Once again, God, you know exactly the right way to handle things."

You could almost see the obese man's head swelling to a ridiculous size along with his ego. "I know, ugly stick creature thing…I know." He sat back in his chair and went back to sleep. He stayed asleep for quite a few days after that. He needed to catch up, after all. The people in Squee's neighborhood, though…they didn't get much sleep that night.


End file.
